Burning Red
by SpanishLullabies
Summary: He's the former bad boy with a tattoo that makes her curious. She's the good girl that dreams of escaping the small town she lives in. Meeting him shows her a way to escape and a love that burns red.
1. Chapter One: Trouble

****Disclaimer: I don't own TVD.

D/E

AU/AH

Song: I Knew You Were Trouble. - Taylor Swift

* * *

_**Burning Red**_

**Ch****apter One: Trouble**_  
_

_I was in your sights, you got me alone  
You found me, you found me, you found me_

He has a tattoo.

Black ink runs down the muscle of his right forearm, stark against white skin and the words – written in a language as old as time – ripple whenever his forearm flexes.

There is, Elena Gilbert decides, something inexplicably erotic about that tattoo.

The fact that it's permanently imbedded in the arm of Damon Salvatore is somehow makes it more than erotic.

Damon Salvatore was the bad boy of Mystic Falls when he was in his teens, sauntering around town with nothing more than an attitude that invited fights, looks that threatened to become more devastating with time and an acerbic tongue that suggested just how angry he was with the world.

She remembers him from when she was younger and had no time for skinny girls, with scraped knees and wide brown eyes, particularly young girls who happen to be the daughter of the most prominent doctor in town.

Now, the bad boy is more than that.

He's grown into those looks that had made him good looking when he was younger and now make him simply devastating. The lithely muscled body, the angles of his face covered in a dark five o'clock shadow, the intense blue eyes that smirk even when his mouth doesn't and messy dark hair that falls every which way.

The attitude that seemed too big for him when he was younger has been honed down into one that combines experience with a sliver of danger that suggests he's seen and done more than she could ever imagine. The anger isn't there but the acerbic tongue has been tamed into snark.

In essence, he's still the bad boy that everyone knows is trouble.

Despite all this, it's the tattoo that she notices.

It's the tattoo that makes her curious.

It's the tattoo that makes her know he's trouble.

* * *

She's leaving the Mystic Grill late when she runs into him for the first time.

It's the middle of summer and she's been working as a waitress to save money for a trip to Europe she promised herself when she was sixteen and had fallen in love with the idea of Italy.

Her feet are aching, she's sticky from sweat and she's bone tired from a double shift and maintaining a cheerful demeanour the entire time.

Her mind is on her bed as she steps outside into warm night air and fights back the urge to call her mother and have her come and pick her up instead of walking home.

He's standing outside, leaning against a wall, arms folded, staring at the sky.

She stops short when she sees him, thoughts of finding her phone drifting away as she tries to place the man standing in front of her.

Before she can place him, he turns his head and pushes away from the wall when he catches sight of her standing there.

"Hi."

There's not much she can think to say when it appears he's not going to say anything. He steps into the light when she speaks and Elena finds it takes effort to keep from having her mouth drop open as she recognizes who is standing in front of her.

"Well, well. Elena Gilbert. All grown up." Damon Salvatore's voice is like velvet, she decides, as he draws the words out while taking a slow inventory of her.

He's so much more attractive

The slow look makes her blush as she realizes what he's seeing. The basic white shirt and black skirt, stained from sweat and soft drink she'd accidentally spilled on herself. Her long ebony hair is pulled up in a high ponytail and the strands that have fallen out are stuck around a face that is void of any make-up she had put on before her shift had started, the mascara darkening under her eyes as she has no doubt it has run during her shift.

In short, she looks like a mess and she supresses a wince as he finishes his inventory and his eyes move back up to hers.

Her wide brown eyes meet his startlingly blue ones and the curiosity in them startles her.

"You know who I am?"

The question sounds even more inane when she voices it and Elena regrets it the second it leaves her mouth.

She forgets to regret it the second a razor sharp grin flits across his face and she feels herself go week at the knees.

That grin, she thinks, should be illegal. It's dangerous, dosed with a healthy amount of charm and makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in such a way that she sincerely hopes he never grins at her again.

Her knees may not survive it.

"Yes, Elena, I know who you are." He drawls hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and tilting his head to one side, as if he's decidedly amused by this exchange. "It's hard to forget the girl who's the darling of Mystic Falls."

She frowns a little at that.

Not because it's not true but because she hates to be reminded of it. It makes her wish that instead of being the daughter of a founding family and the town's revered doctor, she was simply a girl without a title.

"Oh."

Damon ignores the inadequate response. "And you obviously know who I am?"

She wrinkles her nose a little at the insinuation because he's obviously aware that she knows exactly who he is.

"Damon Salvatore." She confirms. "I hadn't heard you'd come back to town."

Which, Elena realizes suddenly, is actually quite strange. If people had known Damon Salvatore had returned to town, she most definitely would have heard about it tonight.

It was hard to ignore gossip about Mystic Falls resident bad boy being back. It would have been the biggest piece of gossip in town, if anybody knew.

He laughs a little at that. "That's because I didn't want anyone to know."

She eyes him at that. "That's quite a feat, actually. Why are you hanging outside the Grill?"

Damon steps closer and Elena realizes she has to tilt her head back a little to maintain eye contact and that surprises her a little. She doesn't remember him being tall.

"Waiting for my brother. I suppose he's not here?"

His eyes are really, really blue, she notices. Like, the kind of crazy blue you hear about but can never quite believe exists. They're penetrating and it's quite disconcerting because the effect it has on her is devastating.

She feels the first tug of serious attraction even as she realizes that she hasn't answered his question.

"Who? Oh, Stefan." She recovers from her absentminded slip and hopes he doesn't notice. Those blue eyes flashing tells her he noticed it, all right. "No. I haven't seen him tonight. Does he know you're back?"

Damon rolls his eyes at the question. "With the girlfriend he has? Like I'm going to tell him that I'm back. Are you heading home?"

The change in subject is disconcerting and for a second Elena has to think about the sentence before she nods slowly, wondering why he'd ask a question he should have already guessed the answer to.

"Obviously. Walking," she gestures vaguely to her right. "That way."

Damon's silent after that and it draws out until she starts to feel awkward as she realizes just what she's doing. It's not hard to imagine someone might come along and see her talking to someone who could be taken for a stranger in this light and report it back to her parents.

God forbid, someone tells her parents.

Hitching her bag higher on her shoulder, she shifts uncomfortably from one foot to another and then swallows slightly before refocusing on him.

"Well, I'm going to go. It's good to see you."

Damon is obviously surprised that she's saying goodbye and she wonders why before he reaches out and tugs the bag she's just readjusted off her shoulder and swings it over his, in one swift move.

"I'll walk with you."

She stares. She can't help it. Because he's taken her bag and offered – told, more like it – to walk her home.

It's as his arms falling to shove his hand into his pocket that she notices the tattoo running down his forearm.

It makes her mouth go dry.

Because she knows, without a doubt, Damon Salvatore is most definitely not someone she's used to.

No-one she knows has a tattoo and they most definitely don't have smiles that are a little too dangerous or eyes so blue they're unbelievable.

They also don't hold the title of the bad boy of Mystic Falls that has stuck even though he'd left town the second he'd graduated high school, nearly nine years ago.

It's a really bad idea to say yes to having him walk her home, even though he seems to have not given her a choice, mostly because she can't imagine why he'd want to walk her home any more than she can imagine actually walking home with him.

It takes her maybe three seconds to realize she genuinely doesn't care.

"Okay."

She starts walking the second she agrees and he's silent as he walks next to her.

The town is quiet for a Friday night. There's not even a hint of movement on the quiet streets, the houses dark as their occupants sleep peacefully. Though, Elena imagines that there's a party happening in the woods celebrating the beginning of summer.

A party she was invited to but never had any intention of going even though she'd smiled and said 'maybe'.

"Why are you still in Mystic Falls?" Damon's question breaks into her thoughts as they walk past picture perfect houses with manicured lawns.

She wrinkles her nose at the question. "It's summer. Why are you back in Mystic Falls?"

Elena doesn't bother to glance at him even though she can sense that something about her comment has amused him. She waits for his answer and starts to think he's not going to when he shrugs.

"Heard things were getting boring back here. Thought I'd come back and shake things up a bit." He replies caustic amusement in his tone and she almost laughs.

"You'll certainly do that. Gossip's been slow lately."

"A slow gossip day in Mystic Falls? It must be snowing in hell." The amusement is still there as well as what she thinks is resentment.

Elena supposes that the resentment shouldn't be unexpected. Except that he couldn't be that resentful, as far as she can remember he'd managed to create gossip in Mystic Falls on such an unprecedented level that the gossipmongers were bereft when he'd left.

"Probably. But what are you going to do about it?" She asks rhetorically.

He seems to appreciate her response and they continue to walk in silence and it dawns on her that maybe she should be nervous.

It's not every day she walks home with someone she barely knows, at night and with the unsettling feeling that if she sees him in full light, that serious tug of attraction she'd felt would become full blown and she doesn't want that to happen.

It's with surprise that she realizes they're approaching her house. The porch light has been left on and she's suddenly grateful she didn't call her mother; her parents have obviously gone to bed instead of waiting up for her.

"That was quick." Damon comments, as she stops and turns to him.

The porch light creates shadows that fall over his face, shading half of it in darkness and she nods, jerkily reaching out a hand for her bag.

He shrugs her bag from his shoulder, handing it over and she catches a glimpse of his tattoo again.

The letters are foreign but she thinks they must be Latin.

"You have a tattoo."

She blushes at her words, embarrassed that she's said that and he smirks.

"I do."

"What does it mean?" She asks, deciding that she may as well ask now that she's bought it up.

Damon's silent a moment longer and she shifts her gaze from his tattoo to his face and the expression she can see in her eyes is something she can identify all too well and knows she should stay far away from.

His expression is trouble and she knows if she's smart, she'll stay far, far away.

"I'll tell you one day. Maybe." The words hang in the air between them, tantalizingly teasing and she sucks in a breath. "Nice to see you, Elena."

Damon gives her one last look before turning around and walking back the way they'd come. Elena watches his receding back and then blows out a breath.

Trouble, she thinks. He's trouble for so many reasons but mostly because she has no idea what has just happened and he knows it.

Shaking her head slightly, she turns to start walking up the porch steps and then dismisses him from her mind.

She's too smart to think about someone she knows is trouble.

_I knew you were trouble when you walked in  
Trouble, trouble, trouble  
_

* * *

A/N: Hi, welcome to my new procrastination project! I'm trying very hard to _not_ do my uni work - anyone who is even remotely involved with school will understand this, I hope! - and this story has been rolling around in my head for a little while. A product of awesome ideas at three a.m. and the fact that I think Ian Somerhalder's tattoo is really hot. And no, this is not going to be one of those where I post and then never, ever post again. I'm actually in the middle of writing it out right now, so hopefully, if you like it, you shouldn't be waiting too long! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	2. Chapter Two: Never Saw You Coming

Disclaimer: I don't own TVD.

D/E

AU/AH

Song: State of Grace - Taylor Swift

* * *

**Chapter Two: Never Saw You Coming**

_Now all we know is don't let go  
We are alone, just you and me_

Elena sees him again exactly a week after he walked her home that night.

He's draped over a seat at the Grill, dark good looks enhanced by the dark clothes he's wearing, surveying the regular crowd of high school students, young families and older groups of friends with a cynical smile that suggests he's seen this all before.

She's in the middle of her shift when her boss indicates for her to go over and see if he wants anything other than the tumbler of bourbon he's been toying with for the past half hour.

She nods once at her boss and prepares herself to go over and greet him when she sees his brother walk in, his arm slung around a blond with straight swinging hair and a proprietary arm wrapped around his waist.

Instantly, she grimaces as she realizes that if she goes over she'll have to converse with Stefan Salvatore and Rebecca Mikaelson.

It's not that she doesn't like either of them; she doesn't really have strong feelings for the pair either way. At least, that's what she tells herself whenever she sees them.

Truthfully, despite a friendship with Stefan that had lasted right up until he had met the blond girl, she stopped having time for him when high school was over and she'd discovered that Stefan had stopped maturing right around the same time.

The younger Salvatore was an infuriating mix of self-righteousness and selfishness she'd never really been able to deal with. Though she knows he loves his brother, Stefan had never been quick to defend his brother from any of the gossip that had constantly circled about Damon in high school even as he chose to party harder and cut a swath through girls that put anything his brother had done to shame.

It had confused her and, often when they'd been closer, she'd questioned whether or not he thought his actions were just a tad hypocritical.

Now, with in a relationship with the British blond, he'd become almost unbearable as he seemed to have developed a superiority complex in the time they'd been dating.

She has no doubt that when she goes over; he'll politely ask why she's _still_ working at the Grill when he's doing something so much better like managing that kitschy old bookstore around the corner from campus that everyone just _has_ to go to.

Bex, well, Elena doesn't like Bex simply because the blond has never liked her.

She's never really enjoyed being hated on the principle that Stefan _might_ have had feelings for her once upon a time.

Either way, Elena finds herself wishing that Damon had been alone because she figures it would be less awkward then if they're with him.

Mainly because she's still trying to figure out why he'd chosen to walk her home the week before and she really would rather not bring that up in front of his brother.

"Elena. Table eight. Go." Her boss barks the order at her, nodding towards the table Damon is sitting at, now full.

Wrinkling her nose slightly at her boss, who grins a little because he knows exactly why she doesn't want to go over, she picks up the menus and weaves her way through the crowded restaurant, skilfully dodging running children and waving arms as she goes.

Damon spots her before she has actually reaches them, lowering his glass and watching her with an appreciative gleam she's sure she missed the first time.

She catches a glimpse of the tattoo running up his forearm as he lowers his glass and forces herself to not bite her lip at it.

She feels that tug of attraction as she approaches and knows that she was right when she thought seeing him in a fully lit room would be different.

He's _devastating_ without shadows.

He has a five o'clock shadow staining his jaw and sweeping down his chin, his hair is messy and those blue eyes continue watching her as she approaches.

He's dressed in black again and she spots a leather jacket draped over the seat he's occupying and forces herself not to bite her lip because she knows it will give away the fact that she finds him _really_ attractive.

She's almost at their table when Damon folds his arms, rests them on the table and leans forward, causing the arms of his black t-shirt to strain over the muscle that bulges.

Elena tries hard to make a point of not looking at them and knows she fails miserably when she catches his smirk as her eyes snap away from them.

God, it's not fair that a smirk like that could make him even more attractive.

"Hi, would you like a menu?"

She stops in front of them, making a point to not look at him only to discover that she's standing a little too close to Damon as three pairs of eyes turn to her.

"Elena! Are you still working here?" Stefan sounds surprised when he sees her and she nearly rolls her eyes because she is obviously psychic.

"Yes. I like it." She kind of hopes the conversation stops there but knows it won't.

"Wow, you've been working here almost as long as I've been at the book – "

Damon's smooth drawl cuts his brother off. "Menus would be great, Elena. Thank you."

Her knees go a little weak at the way Damon says her name. There's something about the way he draws it out, like he's savouring it that makes her want to swallow. Hard.

She doesn't. Instead, she hands them the menus. Bex takes it with a look of barely concealed distaste and it's all she can do to not roll her eyes.

"Would you like some drinks before you order?"

Her eyes touch on Stefan who is watching her a little too closely, then Bex who is examining the menu with the same look a fussy child looks at their vegetables, to settling on Damon who is simply watching her.

"Actually, that'd be great. Bourbon on the rocks." He doesn't smirk at her this time and she discovers the steady look is more effective without it.

Horrifyingly she feels a blush start to creep up her cheeks as she pulls out her notepad and scribbles it down before looking expectantly at Stefan.

"Heineken. Babe?" Stefan seems to interrupt Bex's musings and she glances up briefly.

"I suppose the house white will have to do."

There's a resigned tone to her voice that would have annoyed Elena if she wasn't so aware that Damon was still watching her steadily.

She nods once, flustered because Damon meets her gaze unashamedly when she glances at him.

"Okay. I'll get back to your – I mean, with your drinks and to take your orders."

"Thanks, Elena."

Again with the name, she thinks. It makes her knees wobble a little as she spins to head back to the bar with their order. As she weaves back to the bar, she throws a glance back over her shoulder only to find Damon still watching her even as Stefan leans forward to engage his brother with an irritated look.

"That Damon guy's watching you." Her boss comments as she leans over the bar to place their order.

"Mmm." She murmurs noncommittally.

She's _so_ not going there.

"Looks like he's interested." The smile is knowing and Elena feels her face heat as she leans back.

"Who's interested?" The voice in her makes her jump in surprise.

Spinning around, she squeals a little to find her best friend Caroline Forbes standing behind her, blond curls bouncing and blue eyes sparkling.

"Caroline!"

"Elena!"

Her boss shakes his head at the shrieks even as Elena's throwing her arms around Caroline's neck to squeeze her tightly.

The blond has been away in New York since high school. Attending New York University and acquiring the big city sheen which Elena can only be jealous of.

"What are you doing here? I thought your semester didn't end until next week!"

She pulls away as Caroline does and her friend's blue eyes twinkle at her and Elena notices there's softness in them that she's never seen there before and wonders at it.

"I lied. I wanted to surprise you! Are you surprised?" Caroline's practically bouncing as she steps away from her.

"Yes! Though I can't talk I have – uh, hi." She breaks off in mid-sentence as Caroline's hand wraps around the arm of a tall blond man standing a little ways behind her.

He offers her a smile that is touched with just a little bit of knowing and frowns a little at it. The hand Caroline has on his arm slides down so she can slip her hand into his and their interlocking fingers makes Elena feels like this is something she's never heard about before.

"Hello." He replies, his accent carrying a wisp of England that reminds Elena how much she wants to go there.

"Elena," Caroline starts her eyes bright with nerves. "This is Nik. He's my boyfriend."

The softness she caught in Caroline's eyes is now in her voice and Elena can only think she never saw this coming.

Because her best friend is in love with the man who's holding her hand and it's something that she never, ever saw coming.

It's also something Caroline hasn't told her and Elena can't help but feel betrayed because she doesn't know how to react or what to do and it makes her just a little angry.

"Drinks, Elena. Sorry Caroline, she has to work."

Shaking her head a little to clear it, Elena turns to take the drinks her boss has served up onto a tray and gives Caroline a smile she's pretty sure doesn't reach her eyes, "I'll talk to you after, okay?"

Caroline bites her lip and nods as Nik's other hand comes up to slide a curl back behind her ear and Elena neatly sidesteps them carrying the tray and heading back to the table with Damon. She glances up as she approaches to see him studying her again and takes a deep breath as she sees he's watching.

Carefully, she balances the tray in one hand as she skirts around Stefan's chair to place the wine next to Bex only for the next second to be something she really didn't see coming but should have expected.

"Is that _Klaus_?" Bex's voice is higher pitched than normal, surprise tinging it as she pushes her chair back without a cursory glance back and knocks directly into Elena.

The tray she has balanced precariously high above her head, crashes down at the loss of balance and Elena suddenly finds herself covered in alcohol, the yeasty smell of beer invading her senses as the blond turns to her.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Didn't see you there."

As far as apologies go, it's probably the most insincere one she's ever received and she glowers at the blond even as she realizes that the entire restaurant is quiet and watching to see what she does next.

Elena knows she should probably smile, accept the apology and then tell them she'll be back with more drinks after she's changed her now soaked shirt.

That isn't what she does.

Instead, she glares at the unconcerned blond, shaking a hand to free it of moisture and lets the surge of anger brought on by many things, including this, shoot through her and guide her actions.

"Of course you didn't. Why would you? I'm the _help_." She sneers and is pretty sure she hears someone choke back a laugh at her words even as Bex blinks a little at the venom in her tone.

With that, Elena turns on her heel and stomps away, knowing she should probably not have said what she'd said and should also be clearing up the mess Bex has caused.

It surprises her when her boss doesn't say anything to her as she stomps past the bar and her best friend's wide eyes and into the storage room at the back of the Grill where she knows they keep spare shirts just for this type of accident.

Though, she supposes it's because they're all in a state of shock. Not only do things like this _not_ happen to her, she often doesn't become irrationally angry over them.

Shutting the door firmly behind her, Elena stomps to the sink sitting in the corner of the storage room. She pumps liquid soap into the palm of her hand, yanking on the tap and shoving her hands beneath the spray of water to scrub away the alcohol covering her hands.

When her hands are clean, she yanks off her shirt and drops the sodden white cotton to the floor. Reaching for the paper towels that sit in a stack by the sink, she picks up a few, wets them and then begins to wide at the wet sheen on her chest. The tank top she was wearing beneath her shirt isn't too badly wet, yet Elena knows that it smells like beer and figures she'll have to put up with it.

She reaches up to yank out the hairband keeping her long hair in its high ponytail when the door to the storage room opens and she spins to tell the person who has come in to leave.

She stops short when she sees the person entering the room isn't Caroline, as she'd suspected, but Damon Salvatore.

Seeing him was something she hadn't seen coming after he'd watched his drink spill down the front of her shirt.

Her hair falls to the wayside as he closes the door behind him and his blue eyes survey her with a startling combination of concern, amusement and approval.

The storage room suddenly seems a little bit too small for her and Elena shakes her hair back as a distraction to the disconcerting feeling.

"What are you doing here?"

He smiles a little at that. "Just thought I'd see if you still smell like a frat party."

"I do. Bye."

Elena turns her back to him and concentrates on the mirror she has yet to look into. A frown mars her forehead as she realizes that the alcohol has hit her face as well, she grabs another paper towel to wipe it and the black residue of her mascara away.

Damon stands by the door silently, watching her as she wipes away the alcohol and carefully smudges under her eyes to control the running mascara.

"It wasn't your fault, you know that right?" He asks conversationally when she throws the paper towel away.

Turning back to him, she gives him a look that suggests she knows exactly whose fault it was and then shrugs.

"Whatever, I don't care. I have to get back out there and clean it up." Elena responds, moving over to the box she knows hides the spare shirts.

Opening it, she discovers that the only shirts left are in large and she bites back a groan. She'll look like she's drowning in white if she puts it on but she has absolutely no choice.

"Are you aware your leg is a really attractive shade of red?" Damon asks again, telling her something she actually hadn't known. "When the wine glass shattered, a piece caught you across the leg."

Yanking out the shirt, Elena slams the box shut, turns around and sits down on it dejectedly. Sliding her leg out in front of her, Elena suddenly registers the stinging of the cut as she looks at the gash halfway down her shin, oozing blood.

"Excellent. Just what I needed." She grinds out and then blows out a breath, unexpectedly drained from the anger that had kept her going right up until this point.

"Looks like it. Here," Damon says, taking another paper towel and crouching down in front of her. He folds the towel up into a strip and presses it to the cut, in quick efficient moves that have her eyeing him curiously, as if she's just really registered that he's here.

"Why are you here?" She asks cautiously, her eyes straying to the back of his head and her fingers itching to reach out and touch the raven locks at the nape of his neck. "I don't actually know you."

"Figured you'd appreciate me more than my brother or the blond you went cold on at the bar." He tells her, looking up with a smirk even as she appreciates what he's saying. "Besides, I wanted to see if you were walking home again."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Need someone to walk home with you?"

Elena sighs. "Again. Why? You don't know me."

Damon carefully pulls away the towel from her leg, wiping away the blood beneath the cut before looking up at her with a strangely cocky look, as if he knows something she doesn't.

"No. I don't. But _you_ want to know _me_. Otherwise you wouldn't have let me walk you home the other night." He smirks a little at her expression. "I don't blame you. Everyone wants to know me."

Damon says it as he runs a gentle finger over the cut on her leg and Elena feels that one touch in every single bone in her body even as she feels her blood heat at the barely there heat of his fingers.

Elena feels the heat as his eyes shift back from where he's been eyeing her cut to meet her own.

Elena has heard about the moment when you meet someone's eyes and everything disappears, she's heard about the moment when looking into the eyes of that _one_ person makes the world stop spinning and you feel and see more in that one long look than you ever will with someone else.

She has heard about it but she never thought it would ever happen to her.

It happens.

In that one look following the cocky knowledge that she wants to know about Damon Salvatore, that moment happens and Elena feels the reaction creep up into her cheeks, the blush spreading as he holds the look.

Deliberately drawing it out as she notices that the blue of his eyes is akin to the colour of the summer sky, there are crinkles around his eyes that tell the story of his laugh and his stubble is darker than his hair and Elena fists her fingers in the shirts she's holding, in defence against the sudden urge to run the backs of her fingers against his stubble, just to see what if feels like.

The look heats her blood and almost in a daze, Elena finds herself leaning forward, so that she's closer to him than before.

His lips start to curve even as Damon raises his hand to push away the hair that has fallen over shoulder when she'd moved.

For a second, Elena thinks he's about to say something and the doorknob rattles. Jerking back, Elena stands up quickly, yanking the fresh shirt over her head as the door opens and Damon slowly rises from where he'd been crouched.

Elena sees her best friends worried albeit curious expression as Caroline enters the room.

Tucking the large shirt into her skirt, Elena looks at Caroline and then glances at Damon who seems to be waiting for her to say something.

"My shift finishes at eleven."

The smirk that flashes across his face makes her swallow and raising her arms to tie her hair back again, Elena sidles past him and Caroline – with only a tight smile for the blond – and back out into the restaurant where she's supposed to be working.

Hoping that the next few hours won't bring her something or someone she never saw coming.

Hoping it won't bring someone that could, potentially, have her know that she'll never be the same afterwards.

Because she doesn't think she could have ever seen Damon Salvatore - or what he could possibly change in her - coming.

Even if nothing has happened.

Yet.

_And I never (never) saw you coming  
And I'll never (ever) be the same_

* * *

A/N:I'm supposed to be doing a Religion essay. Which is late. By a day. But I didn't want to, also, I didn't think I was going to get a chance to post next week. The joys of exams. Not. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter and I hope you enjoy this one. Drop me a review and let me know mostly 'cause it makes me happy. Mainly because it'll help me avoid studying tomorrow and I want to crack on with chapter four and it'll help! Again, I really hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter Three: Starlight

__Disclaimer: I don't own TVD

D/E

AU/AH

Song: Starlight - Taylor Swift

* * *

**Chapter Three: Starlight**

_"Look at you, worrying so much about things you can't change  
You'll spend your whole life singing the blues if you keep thinking that way"  
_

Her shift finishes closer to twelve than eleven and the only thing that has kept her going after the debacle with the drinks is that Damon's going to walk her home.

The other thing is that she didn't have to face his dinner companions or Caroline and her new boyfriend again.

Elena knows that it's probably a horrible thing she's doing by avoiding Caroline but really, she can't help it.

If there was one thing Caroline has always told her, it's every little romantic adventure the blond has ever embarked on. To find out that not only has Caroline fallen in love but hasn't told her at all, _hurts_.

With a sigh, Elena reaches up and pulls out her hair as she steps from the storeroom into the now quiet, dimly lit restaurant. As her hair falls down around her shoulders, Elena decides to push Caroline out of her mind and concentrate on the hope that Damon is still waiting for her.

She doubts that he will be.

If she had known that her shift was going to run over and that she would be the last waitress to leave the restaurant, she would have found a chance to tell him except she hadn't. Mostly because once she'd emerged from the storeroom, she'd thrown herself into work as an apology to her boss for disappearing after the mess she'd been involved in.

"You did well tonight, Elena." Her boss glances up briefly from counting the register, sympathy lighting his eyes and she smiles gratefully.

"Thanks, sorry I bailed earlier. I'll see you tomorrow." She says, lifting her hand in a wave as she heads towards the door.

Her boss flashes a quick grin in farewell as she opens the door and steps out into the cool night air. Drawing in a deep breath, Elena lets the door swing shut behind her and lets her head fall back so she can look at the clear sky and the winking starlight.

"Finally. I thought you'd stood me up." Damon's drawl surprises her and her head snaps to the side to see him leaning against the wall, in almost the exact same position from a week ago.

Involuntarily, a smile tugs at her lips and she shakes her head.

"I thought _you_ were going to, actually."

"After you so charmingly agreed to my request? Hardly." He smirks, his eyes light with amusement.

Elena adjusts the strap of her messenger bag that crosses her body and tells herself not to get caught up in the lightness of his eyes.

"So, shall we?" She asks, motioning with her hand before letting it fall back and curl around her bag strap.

Damon nods and Elena slowly starts to walk towards her house, glancing across at him as he falls into step next to her.

Damon's silent as they walk and Elena discovers it doesn't make her itchy. She had expected him to ask questions about what had happened at the Grille. Maybe inquire why she'd gone cold on the blond, as he'd so aptly put it.

But there's nothing there like that. He's simply walking silently besides her and it relaxes her enough for her to take a deep breath.

"The blond? Caroline. She's my best friend. I just found out that the guy she was with is her new boyfriend." Elena tells him, her eyes trained ahead so she doesn't have to catch his reaction. "She's in love with him. Like, real love."

"You got that from two seconds of interaction?" Damon asks his voice sharp and Elena shrugs.

"It's not hard when you've known someone your whole life. I've seen Caroline in love but I've never seen Caroline _in love_."

It's the best she can come up with as an explanation and Damon falls silent for a second as they continue walk, their pace noticeably slower now that they're talking.

"She didn't tell you, did she?" Damon asks and Elena's eyes slide towards. "About the new boyfriend. That's why you went cold on her."

Elena shrugs. "Basically. Then I got beer dumped on me."

Damon chuckles at the reminder of the mishap earlier that evening and Elena, who knows enough time has passed for it to be funny, reluctantly cracks a grin. Mostly because she likes the sound of Damon's laughter more than she thinks what happened was funny.

"Then you got Bex. That whole thing was made by the way you told her off." Damon muses, amusement ripe in his voice. "You should get a t-shirt printed with that. Give it to her for Christmas."

Elena shrugs even as Damon slows a little more and she starts to get the impression that he's attempting to draw out the walk a little longer than necessary.

She doesn't mind. In fact, she glances to her right and the park near her house comes into view, as does a set of swings. Her brain connects the swings with the idea of sitting down and her feet give an unwelcome throb, reminding her she'd been on them for hours.

Elena knows that she should probably just keep walking, say goodnight to Damon on the footpath and step into her quiet house.

It is the path that's going to get her into less trouble than if she wanders over to the swings to sit down and draw this interaction with Damon out.

The problem is that she _wants_ to draw this out. She wants to find out more about Damon Salvatore, just as he'd suggested with the cocky, knowing grin. She especially wants to find out why he's walking her home again and why he'd been the one to follow her into the storeroom after all those drinks had gone down her front.

It takes her all of two seconds to decide that she doesn't care about going home, right now. She'd much rather go to the swings and sit down.

She'd much rather spend more time with Damon than go home to a quiet house.

"Come on. I need to sit down." She shoots the words over her shoulder as she starts crossing the road to get to the swings.

In the bright moonlight, Elena catches a glimpse of Damon's expression and it makes her heart quicken.

He's watching her like she's the most interesting thing in the world and he can't wait to find out more.

No-one has ever looked at her like that.

No-one has ever bothered to look at her like that before because to everyone, Elena knows exactly how they think about her.

She's the town doctor's daughter. The girl who earned straight A's all through highs school only to attend a university close enough to allow her to come home every break. She's the one who will marry who she's expected, possibly a doctor like her father, and stay home to raise two children inside a yard with a white picket fence.

She's the one who no-one has ever thought to wonder if she wanted to aspire to anything beyond Mystic Falls and the set path in front of her.

Because of this, no-one has ever found her interesting.

Elena herself has never found herself interesting until she'd seen the look on Damon's face as she heads towards the swings and knows that maybe, this time, someone is seeing beyond that particular life plan.

Turning back to the swings, Elena kicks off her shoes and pulls off her socks. Her toes sinking into sand meant to soften the fall if someone comes off the swings and drops her bag to the ground next to them.

Relieved to have the shoes off, she steps over to the swings and sinks down into one, sighing as she gently starts to sway.

Smiling gently, Elena glances up and watches as Damon strolls over to her, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Come sit down." She invites when it seems like he's not going to say anything.

Damon raises his eyebrows at her invitation, as if questioning what she's asking and Elena just grins.

"Why not?" He asks, walking over to the swing next to hers and settling himself into it.

Elena swings a little, twisting her body around so she can look at Damon, who is absentmindedly rocking himself on the swing with one foot.

Elena lets the silence reign and tips her face back up to look at the night sky. It's one of the things she loves most about summer, the clear night sky. She loves the winking silver lights against the inky black backdrop and the fact that she can sit outside and admire it because of the warmth of the night.

"It's too quiet."

Damon's comment breaks the silence and she twists the swing to look at him.

"What?" She asks, laughter tinging her voice.

"I live in New York. It's never quiet. It's weird to be back here and for it to be so quiet." Damon grins unrepentantly and Elena feels a twinge of envy at hearing where he's been.

"Is that where you went when you left?" She asks wistfully, her gaze drifting back up the endless night sky.

Damon glances at her sharply. "No. Despite popular belief, I actually went to college. I moved to New York when I graduated."

"Oh." Elena kicks sand before digging her toes back it. "Why'd you leave?"

It's one of the biggest mysteries of Mystic Falls the reason behind why Damon Salvatore had left. Elena can remember the day when it had clicked with the town that Damon Salvatore had upped and left, leaving everyone scratching their heads and rumours abounding that he'd finally been arrested and sent to jail for offences that had yet to be disclosed.

Even now, after nearly ten years of being gone, no-one has ever known for sure why Damon Salvatore had left.

He snorts a little. "Seriously? This town is suffocating. I couldn't wait to get out. I even thought about arranging a party for everyone so the town could celebrate after I'd bailed. Wouldn't have been a surprise to me if they had one, anyway."

Elena bites her lip at that. Not a little surprised that Damon is aware of the way the town had viewed him.

He hadn't been a pariah, really. He'd just been viewed with suspicion for as long as Elena can remember and many, many things had been blamed on him. Vandalism, underage drinking, fights, the ability to go through the entire female population over the age of sixteen with amazing alacrity. Damon Salvatore had been known for all of them and a few Elena is sure she doesn't know about.

"Is that really it?"

"Why would there be more?"

Elena frowns. "You bailed. Like, no-one actually knew where you'd gone. Not even Stefan. You can't tell me the reason you bailed was because the town was suffocating."

Damon lets out a bark of laughter. "Why not? It's really not that unbelievable. It's what's happening to you."

Elena pauses at that. "What do you mean?"

Damon eyes her for a second, as if he's surprised that she's asked that question before eventually shrugging.

"If you haven't figured it out yet then I'm not going to tell you." Elena wrinkles her nose at his answer before he continues. "Why'd Barbie's news upset you?"

Elena shrugs. "She hadn't told me. That's why."

"That's it? She didn't tell you so you're mad at her? How very high school."

The sarcasm in Damon's voice should have annoyed her, at the very least the tense feeling she often gets in her shoulders when someone says something she didn't like should have appeared.

Neither happens, instead she lets out a laugh that sounds a little sad even to her and then sighs, leaning her head against one of the chains which were holding the swings up.

Damon lets silence fall again and Elena wonders if she should tell him really why Caroline's news has actually upset her. Even as she thinks about it, Elena knows that she's going to tell him because she doesn't actually know who else to tell.

At least, she doesn't know who tell before Caroline corners her about it.

"It's not really just about the fact that she didn't tell me. Has anyone ever not told you something and when you found out, it hurt that they didn't tell you instead of caring about what the thing is?" She asks slowly, thinking out loud because it's the only way she can explain it without making it seem like a jumbled mess.

Damon doesn't answer right away and Elena decides that maybe he doesn't want to answer the question. It makes her realize she doesn't actually care if he answers or not.

At least, she's told someone.

"Not really. People don't spend a lot of time telling me their deepest secrets. I don't spend a lot of time telling people _my_ deepest secrets, either." Damon sounds flippant as he speaks and Elena wonders if he doesn't really care even as what he says makes her a little sad for him.

It sounds lonely, she realizes. It sounds lonely to not have someone to talk too, to tell the deepest secrets even if they often are only half the story.

"Oh."

"Don't worry about it. Seriously. It's the way the world works. Besides, I'm sure if you've been BFF's for _that_ long, she'll come begging for your forgiveness in some dramatic way." He pauses. "She may even want to kiss and make-up. If that happens, I'll be there to officiate."

The grin he sends her is just on the border of lewd and even as she laughs, Elena kicks some sand at him.

"That's disgusting, Damon. Why would you say that?"

He shrugs. "'Cause you'll stop worrying about it then, am I right?"

Shaking her head, Elena sighs, knowing that he's right about not worrying about it – worry has been working its way through her since she'd had a chance to think about what she'd done to Caroline – but still not being able to.

At least not until her and Caroline talk.

As she thinks about the blond, Elena remembers that Damon had been in the storeroom with her when Caroline had come to find her and turns a speculative eye on him. He glances up from where he's been kicking sand and meets it, a wry grin pulling at his lips when he sees her expression.

"What?"

"Why'd you follow me into the storeroom?" Elena asks in response and then frowns. "Actually, why'd you walk me home last week?"

Damon pauses at the question, as if he hasn't actually thought about it yet Elena knows that's not entirely true. He has to know what his reasons for following her were, just like he has to know why he walked her home the other night.

She may not have known Damon Salvatore for that long but Elena knows, absolutely, that he doesn't do things without a reason.

"Does there have to be an ulterior motive?" He eventually asks and Elena raises her eyebrows at him, as if she can't quite believe he's asked that.

"Yes. You haven't been back in nearly ten years and the first thing you do when you get back is walk me home. Why are you back?" Elena asks, just realizing that she may have asked him why he left out of curiosity but she definitely wanted to know why he was back.

Damon seems to take that question in his stride even as she can see him formulating some sort of plan in his mind that suggests maybe she really _shouldn't _be out with him, late at night.

"Questions. Questions. You'll get your answers in due course." Damon tuts sounding like he's speaking to a petulant child. "Though I can tell you that I walked you home the other night because I was surprised the Elena Gilbert I remember had grown up into something quite…unexpected."

The way he draws out the last word make her blush. She has no idea if it's a compliment or not but she does know that the way the word has fallen off his tongue makes her cheeks tinge pink and her blood heat, as if he's said something far more sensual.

"I – okay."

She has no idea what to say and falls silent as he turns to her and traps her gaze.

"My turn. Why are you letting me walk you home? Somehow, I don't think it's good for your image to be seen with me. Some would say I'm trying to corrupt you."

Elena's caught in his gaze, aware that he's asking her a question that may have a far more complicated answer than she expected it to. For a second time, she feels her blood begin to heat because his gaze is almost like a caress. Something she can feel in every molecule of her body as her stomach churns as she realizes, again, just how attractive she finds him.

"Are you?" She asks a touch breathlessly. "Trying to corrupt me?"

His chuckle is low and smooth and Elena fights against the impulse to curl her toes at it. She had no idea, not really, the way something as simple as a laugh could affect someone.

"I'll let you know." Damon stops for a second and then glances away from her, giving Elena a reprieve from the way he was looking at her. "I'd better get you home. Just in case someone comes looking."

Elena frowns as he stands up and then sighs as she realizes he's probably right. She knows that while her house may be dark and quiet when she returns, one or both of her parents will be awake, waiting to hear the tell-tale signs of her return.

Standing slowly, Elena stretches a little, realizing her legs have become a little stiff. She ambles over to Damon, unable to stop herself from appreciating the way his jeans stretch tight as he bends over to pick up her messenger bag and shoes from where she'd left them.

He turns around to offer them to you and her eyes drops to the ground as she, embarrassed by what she was doing, blushes again.

"Checking me out, Gilbert?" He asks with a knowing smirk and she shrugs.

"No. Of course not. Thank you."

Elena forces herself to not snatch the items out of his hands even as his eyes glint in approval over what he knows she was doing.

Deciding it's too much effort to put her shoes on, Elena starts to walk towards her house, knowing that Damon will follow.

It takes her maybe two seconds to realize that she can feel his eyes on her and that he is most _definitely_ checking her out.

Not feeling quite brave enough to turn around and call him on it, the way he had her, she keeps walking. She hears his chuckle as he starts following her and knows her cheeks are red again.

They reach her house quickly and Elena isn't sure whether she's grateful for it not. She decides she's grateful because that way she can have a hot shower and wash away the residual stickiness the alcohol has left on her.

Turning to say goodnight to Damon, she stops short when she discovers he is right behind her. Her breath hitches and Elena swallows at the fact that she's so close to him now, she can smell a mixture of aftershave, smoke from the Grill and something that is elementally male.

It's dizzying combined with his closeness and Elena forces herself to tilt her head back and meet his gaze before he does something, like touch her.

"Good night. Thanks for walking me home."

She's congratulating herself on not stuttering her way through the sentence when Damon raises a hand to smooth away a piece of flyaway hair. Elena freezes.

Meeting his gaze, which has become strangely intense, she almost stops breathing as he slides the tip of one finger down the side of her face and along the line of her jaw. Fire follows the feather light touch and Elena finds she can only stand there helplessly as he does it and her body responds instinctively.

God, if this is what it feels like for him to barely touch her…Elena can't think through the rest of her thought as he traces the path up to slide just under her bottom lip.

Her knees turn to jelly and almost unconsciously, she reaches up to grasp his wrist, steadying herself with it.

There's something about this that's making it seem like the starlight that she's admired for so long.

Bright and beautiful.

"Go out with me tomorrow night." Damon's request is low and husky and she wonders if anyone has ever said no to him when he's used that tone.

It's a bad idea. Her parents will freak, Caroline will possibly freak, Elena herself may freak but as he curls his finger and runs the back of it back up the line of her jaw, it's impossible to say no.

"Okay. What time?" Her voice is barely above a whisper and his eyes flash at her reply.

"Seven. Wear something pretty."

At that, Damon drops his hand and steps away from her. Elena belatedly realizes she still has a hold of his wrist and automatically let's it go.

She realizes, as her stomach quivers, that her fingers have come so close to touching the tattoo on his arm and, almost like wanting to feel his five o'clock shadow, she yearns to trace the letters with her finger.

"See you tomorrow night, Elena," Damon says as he steps away and then, flashing a grin. "Don't worry about what happened tonight. Otherwise you'll spend the rest of your life worrying about it."

Elena doesn't respond as he turns away and walks back towards the Grill.

Instead, she watches him go. As she waits for her knees to return to their normal capacity, she tilts her head back and looks at the sky.

The starlight winks back down at her and she hopes that tomorrow night, wherever they go, the night will be lit the way it was tonight.

She hopes tomorrow night, the starlight will be out.

_"Don't you see the starlight, starlight?  
Don't you dream impossible things?"  
_

* * *

A/N: And this is chapter three. Out because I am done with uni for at least two weeks. I'm seriously lamenting the fact that I've enrolled to do summer semester. Anyway, I hope you like it! It's awesome reading you're reviews and how much you've all enjoyed just the first two chapters. Please note, I am writing this before I post it. So whenever I complete a new chapter, the previous one written is posted. Which means I start this and begin work on chapter five! Drop me a review to tell me what you think of this chapter because I hope you enjoyed it! Also, in answer to a review, yes, I am writing this with Taylor Swift's new album in mind. I do love it and the first chapter and the song I used just seemed to fit. I hope you all liked it!


	4. Chapter Four: Miserable and Magical

Disclaimer: Don't own TVD.

D/E

AU/AH

Song: 22 - Taylor Swift

* * *

**Chapter Four: Miserable and Magical**

_We're happy free confused and lonely in the best way  
It's miserable and magical, oh, yeah_

Elena discovers that she owns nothing pretty exactly three hours before Damon is supposed to pick her up.

She's standing in front of her open closet, dressed in a pair of running shorts and tank top, and glaring at every single article of clothing she owns.

There are jeans and long sleeve shirts and dresses her mother has bought for her to go to church in. But there is nothing she deems pretty enough to wear on her date with Damon.

It makes her wish that instead of swapping her dinner shift for the lunch one, she could have just taken the time off work to go and hunt down a pretty dress that she can wear tonight.

Sliding her hands up into her loose hair, Elena grips it and wisely muffles a groan when she sees her mother coming up the stairs, carrying a basket of laundry.

Miranda Gilbert gives her an absent smile as she walks past and Elena smiles back tightly, hoping her mother won't come in and ask what's wrong. She doesn't think that her mother will appreciate the fact that Elena is preparing for a date with Damon Salvatore.

She has no doubt her father would definitely _not_ appreciate it either.

Elena realizes, suddenly, that because of their lack of appreciation she's going to have to come up with some excuse to leave the house tonight.

It just adds to the stress she's already feeling over having nothing to wear and with a muffled groan, she stalks over to her bed and falls onto the rumpled sheets.

How is she supposed to go on this date with Damon if nothing she owns is up to her standards?

If they're not up to her standards, how is she supposed to know if what she finally chooses to wear will be up to _his_ standards?

Scrunching up her nose as she stares at the white ceiling, Elena wishes that she'd gone through this before. Maybe then she would have some experience in how to handle not having anything to wear.

It's not that she doesn't have experience dating, she does. There have always been boys around and some she has liked enough to go out with but none – absolutely _none _ – have ever caused her so much trouble with what to wear.

If this was one of _those_ dates, she would have settled on her good pair of jeans, one of the many dressier tops she owns and heels.

Mostly because it's what the boys she's dated would expect her to wear and truthfully? None of them have ever given her a reason to wear a dress or anything other than jeans because none of them have ever affected her the way Damon seems to.

So those dates are no help because she doesn't _want_ to wear her jeans and dressy shirt. She wants to wear a dress. She wants to wear a light, summer dress with a skirt that sways in a color that makes her skin glow.

Except she doesn't own anything like that.

Because she never thought that she'd be going on a date like _this_. A date with someone that is well beyond her realm of her experience and someone who she _wants_ to look pretty for.

Mostly to prove that she owns clothes that aren't her waitress uniform and, sort of, because the last time he'd seen her, Elena is pretty sure she still smelled like the beer that had been dumped on her head.

"God."

Since when, Elena asks herself, has this dating thing been hard?

Since Damon Salvatore asked her last night, she answers herself and rolls onto her stomach to bury her face in her sheets and huff as she hears her mother stop at the door.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Miranda sounds concerned and Elena raises her head to look over her shoulder.

Her mother isn't holding the basket anymore, her dark hair is pulled up, her eyes bright with lines just beginning to form around her mouth. She's wearing leggings and one of her father's button downs, clothes she's always worn when she spends the day at home and has no intention of going anywhere.

Elena has always taken it as a sign of how good her parent's relationship is just by the fact that Miranda always wears a different shirt of her father's on days like this.

Today is no different; Elena is sure her mother is wearing the shirt her father had worn to work the previous day and considers teasing her about it.

"Nothing." Elena replies and then pushes herself up onto her elbows. "Can we go shopping one day soon? All the clothes I have here are from when I was seventeen and didn't know that anything but jeans existed."

Miranda's eyes sparkle at her request and Elena suddenly feels bad at the obvious happiness on her mother's face. Since she'd returned from college a month ago, the only thing she has done is work. She has avoided, somewhat unconsciously, spending any time with her family.

"Sure thing, honey. We'll put a dent in your father's card." Miranda smiles and is about to move away from the door. "Are you sure you're alright? You look stressed."

Elena smiles at the words, shaking her head. "It's fine. Just…work."

Nope, there is no way she's telling her mother that she's on her bed stressing about not having anything to wear tonight. On a date with Damon Salvatore. In, Elena's eyes slide to her alarm clock, two hours and forty-five minutes.

"Alright."

Her mother doesn't look convinced and turns away to walk back down the stairs. Elena drops her head back down onto her bed and then groans when she hears her mother's next words.

"Hi Caroline! I didn't know you were back."

She so does not want to deal with her best friend right now as she tunes out Caroline's reply to her mother's greeting.

Staying perfectly still, Elena listens as Caroline steps into her room and shuts the door. For a second, maybe two there is complete silence and then Caroline speaks.

"Okay, so I didn't tell you about Nik. But did you have to do what you did?" Caroline asks, hurt badly disguised behind anger in the straight forward question.

Elena takes one deep breath before flipping over onto her stomach and sitting up, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

Caroline stands in front of her, hands on her hips. Her blond hair is in perfectly coiffured curls, her shorts a bright purple matched with a pale green shirt with small straps which settles gently over her frame.

"You mean work? Yeah. Considering it's my job." Elena snaps at her friend and Caroline rolls her eyes. "You didn't tell me about him, Caroline. How was I supposed to react? Open up my arms and welcome him? I didn't know the guy _existed_ up until two seconds after seeing you again. Why didn't you tell me about him?"

Caroline looks vaguely uncomfortable at the question and a queasy feeling settles in her stomach as she realizes that whatever reason Caroline is going to give her, she most definitely won't like.

"Well, I didn't know how to?" Caroline offers it up as if it might placate her and Elena snorts.

"You've told me every single romantic thing that's ever happened to you since we were eight and you had a crush on Matt Donovan."

"I wanted to keep it to myself?"

"See previous answer." Elena says, rolling her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? Seriously. How long have you been seeing him, anyway?"

Caroline freezes a little at the question and the queasy feeling starts to intensify as Elena realizes that it's been _that_ long, that this new boyfriend is really not a new boyfriend at all.

"Since before Christmas." Caroline whispers and Elena takes a deep breath. "I wanted to tell you! I did. I swear. I just didn't know how."

"Why didn't you know how? Did you think I wasn't going to like him or something?" Elena asks, trying to keep calm even as anger begins to roll through her.

"No! I just…I didn't, you know, I didn't –"

"Want me to feel left behind? Like I was losing my best friend to the big city and the big city boyfriend?"

The guilty look on Caroline's face confirms what had caused the queasy feeling in her stomach and Elena can only stare at her.

If Caroline had been afraid to tell her about her new boyfriend because she wasn't sure who to deal with it herself, then she would have understood. If she hadn't told her about the new boyfriend because she didn't know where to begin and just had to tell her face to face, then she would have understood that as well.

But hearing that Caroline hadn't told her simply because she didn't want her to feel like she was being left behind in Mystic Falls just makes her mad and hurt. Elena wonders if Caroline actually realizes that by not telling her over the phone or on skype or even by carrier pigeon, she's left her behind, anyway.

She wonders if Caroline actually realizes that it's the worst reason of all of them and not one Elena can reconcile herself with at the moment.

"Go away, Caroline." She says flatly, unsure of which was stronger, the hurt or the anger and not wanting to say something that will come back to haunt her later.

"Elena –"

"No. Seriously. Leave. I can't – I have to think about this."

It shouldn't be a big deal, Elena realizes, it really shouldn't. But it is. Because Caroline has successfully made her feel like she really is the only one that hasn't escaped Mystic Falls and the life path she's on.

If Caroline had just told her, Elena knows, she would have been happy for her friend. She would have been excited to meet Nik and she would have been jealous for two seconds before appreciating the fact that Caroline is in love and happy and she would have moved on.

But she just _can't_ do that. Not right now.

Caroline sees it on her face, she knows. Because the blond doesn't say anything as she opens the bedroom door and moves to walk through it.

Caroline pauses just out of the doorway. "I'm sorry. But…I'd really like you to meet him. Please."

Elena holds herself still and tries to tell herself that by tomorrow she'll have forgotten about what Caroline's decision has made her feel. She tells herself this because she can see how important it is to Caroline for her to meet her boyfriend and knows she won't be able to avoid it.

"Not now, Caroline. Okay?" She replies stiffly and Caroline's eyes flash a little at her response.

Elena's acquiescence makes her want to hit something and she takes a deep breath before she actually does. It irritates her that even though she's mad at her best friend, even though she feels left behind by Caroline, she can't say no to something that is obviously so important.

"Okay. Um, wear the white dress. The one we bought ages ago and you never wore." Caroline steps out of her room as she speaks and Elena stares at her. "Seriously. He won't be able to keep his tongue in his head if you wear it."

With that last piece of advice – an annoyingly perceptive piece of advice – Caroline leaves and Elena turns her head to look at her closet.

The pertinent question would be how Caroline had known what she was doing and then she decides that she doesn't care.

Springing up from her bed, Elena heads over to her closet and starts to rifle through the jeans and dresses she'd already dismissed, in search of the dress Caroline had been talking about.

She finds it at the very back of her closet, hidden away in a corner with the tags still on. Elena pulls it out and holds it away from her for inspection. It's a simple solid white summer dress, with thick shoulder straps and a square neckline that nips in at the waist. The skirt is full and flirty and Elena remembers vaguely that when she'd tried it on, it had swayed with every move she had made.

It had seemed so simple in the store when she'd first seen that she'd almost bypassed it until she'd seen someone else pull it out and had caught sight of the back.

The entire back panel of the dress, down to her waist is intricate white lace.

It had been enough for her to grab the dress and buy it before she had time to think about where, exactly, she was going to wear it.

Now, holding it in front of her, Elena realizes that the day she had bought the dress, she'd bought it with the hope that one day, she could wear it when nothing else was good enough.

Like right now.

Biting her lip, Elena takes the dress over to her bed and lays it gently down. Drawing back, she glances back at the clock and barely holds back a yelp.

She has less than two hours before Damon arrives to pick her up and rushes into the bathroom to begin the laborious process of getting herself ready for a date she doesn't think she's actually ready for.

It takes her nearly all of the two hours to ready herself.

Elena discovers, very quickly, that it doesn't help that the closer it gets to seven o'clock, the queasier her stomach gets.

She'd hoped, really hoped, that going on this date would give her butterflies that pleasant feeling that she always received whenever she has gone out with someone before. It's a nice, safe feeling that she anticipates the way she's always anticipated wearing jeans or her own ability to control the butterflies.

The queasiness is new.

It's not something she has ever felt before and Elena wonders, as she smooths eyeliner on, if she's going to vomit because it seems to be becoming more violent the closer seven o'clock gets.

She knows, absolutely, that the feeling is because she's going on a date with Damon Salvatore and every time she thinks his name, she feels it intensify.

The violence of her nerves is new to her and Elena starts to wonder if she should sit down before she actually does throw up. Instead, she decides to stop thinking about Damon only to find the only other subject she can think about is Caroline and her reasons for not telling her about Nik and she just feels mad and hurt all over again.

Just feeling that again makes Elena wish that the night with Damon would start and she could leave behind the scene in her bedroom with her best friend.

Shaking her head, Elena pulls her hair out of her ponytail and shakes it, picking up her curling iron to being to task of curling her long, ebony hair.

Elena's cursing how much hair she has as she starts to curl the last section of it when her mother knocks on the door.

"Come in." She calls, concentrating on the last curl and hoping it doesn't become wonky as she yanks hard on it when her mother opens the door.

"Oh. Are you going out?" Miranda sounds disappointed when she sees her daughter's hair.

"Uh-huh. Why?"

"I thought we were going to have a family dinner and maybe games night? Your father's coming home from work and I figured that you'd got off work so we were going to have some family time."

Miranda sounds disappointed and Elena feels a pang in her stomach at her mother's tone as she gather's her hair to one side and pins it into place, so the curls fell over one shoulder in an ebony waterfall.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't know that's what you thought. I, um, I'm meeting Caroline and her new boyfriend. That's why she was over here."

The lie rolls off her tongue too easily and Elena cringes at it. It's a horrible feeling lying to her mother about what she's doing even though she knows her mother will freak out about where she's actually going.

"Oh. Well, do they want to come here? I'd love to meet him."

Elena snorts. "Are you kidding? No. Dad and Jeremy would just terrify him and you know enough about Caroline to completely humiliate her. We'll skip thanks."

Elena steps out of the bathroom and picks up her dress. She pulls it over her head and glances at the clock as she slides the side zipper up.

It is five to seven and Elena's suddenly assaulted by the sick feeling that had disappeared as she'd concentrated on her hair, as she realizes how close she is to walking out the door and meeting Damon.

The feeling combines with the fact that she's just lied to her mother's face and she decides that she can't wait to get out of the house.

"Oh. Well, maybe another night?" Miranda asks as her shrewd gaze wanders over her daughter. "That dress is lovely, honey. Are you meeting them somewhere formal?"

Elena doesn't really hear the question as she searches through her wardrobe for the black pumps she's decided to wear with the dress and frowns when she only finds one of them. Holding back a groan, she throws it back into her wardrobe and instead pulls out a pair of red pumps she's sure she's never seen before in her life.

Staring at them, Elena decides she's going wear them and straightens, only to turn and find her mother appraising her with a look that tells her Miranda's wondering what she's doing and why she's so dressed up.

"What? I'm trying to make a good impression. He's British." Elena wants to pat herself on the back as she stumbles over the rest of the lie and scrunches up her face at her mother's look.

Miranda knows something is off with her daughter as Elena rushes into the bathroom and begins to rummage through her make-up bag for the tube of red lipstick she'd bought to keep Caroline from bugging her about not owning any real make-up.

As she slicks it on, she decides she actually likes how she looks. Her make-up is simple with only a hint dark eye shadow that brings out her eyes, the red lipstick contrasts nicely with the white of her dress and the delicate silver chain she has wrapped around her right wrist. There's silver and diamond winking at her ears, her birthday present from her parents and Elena decides she likes the way her hair falls over her left shoulder.

Elena heads back into her room and picks up the red pumps and slips them on as she stares at her mother.

"What?"

Miranda raises her hands. "Nothing. Nothing. I'll leave you to it. I suppose I'll see you in the morning."

Glancing at the clock, Elena discovers it is one minute past seven and only manages to nod as she heads for the door, picking up her clutch that is holding her phone, some money and her ID.

"Bye. Don't wait up."

Elena slips from her room, leaving her mother sitting on the bed and not caring as her mind suddenly focuses on the fact that she's about to walk outside and go on a date with Damon Salvatore.

As soon as she thinks it, the queasiness is back in full force and she takes a deep breath as she heads down the stairs and out the front door. She's grateful her father hasn't arrived home as she steps out onto the front porch and sees Damon standing on the curb, leaning against a baby blue Camaro.

For a second she stops on the top step of the porch and they appraise each other.

Damon is wearing black jeans and a grey button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is messy and Elena notices that he's shaved as he surveys her with his arms folded across his chest and that there's a beginning of a smirk pulling at his lips as his eyes move back up over her.

Swallowing hard, Elena walks the rest of the way down the stairs and slowly across to him as he pushes away from his car to stand straight as she approaches.

"Hi." She says softly when she's close enough for him to hear.

Elena loses all ability to breath when Damon picks up the hand that's not holding her clutch and carries it to his mouth, his lips brushing the back of her hand in a movement that has heat shooting through her and all her senses focusing on the place he's kissed.

"Hi. Ready to go?" Damon's voices is husky as his eyes meet hers and Elena nods once, slowly, a little stunned by the heat shooting through her.

The place where he's kissed is burning and Elena curls it into a fist as he steps back and opens the door for her to slide in.

Elena slips into the passenger seat of the car and decides that from this moment on, the only thing she is going to concentrate on is Damon.

She's not going to think about anything but Damon because for the first time, it's her turn to concentrate on something other than what's not happening to her.

It's time for her to enjoy her date.

_Tonight's the night when we forget about the heartbreaks  
It's time_

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__A/N: So, I know, kind of a filler but I feel this chapter is important with her interaction with Caroline, her mom and the panic about the date. So, next chapter, the date! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Why not drop a review and tell me how much? :) thanks to everyone for reviewing and following - which is new, apparently - and reading! It means a lot. I hope you enjoy this chapter and hopefully, the next chapter will be up soon!


	5. Chapter Five: Treacherous

Disclaimer: Don't own TVD._  
_

D/E

AU/AH

Song: Treacherous - Taylor Swift

* * *

**Chapter Five: Treacherous**

_This slope is treacherous  
This path is reckless_

He holds her hand the entire time he's driving.

They don't speak and Elena's grateful for it because she's sure she lost all power of speech when he'd slid into the car, started it and picked up her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

She has no idea where they are going and forgets to pay attention to her surroundings as she studies the way their hands fit together.

It's easy to decide she likes holding his hand. She likes the way their fingers lace together and the fact that her hand fits into his in a way she's sure it has never fit into anyone else's. She supposes that maybe she should be wary of the easy way he had taken hold of her hand but can't be because it feels too right for it to be wrong.

The silence is easy, too. Damon's quiet as he drives to wherever they're going and Elena decides that she likes the silence as well.

It's not a silence that comes because they have nothing to say to each other rather, it's one that has settled because there will be time for talking later and he's content just holding her hand.

Elena realizes that it's dangerous.

The contentment with silence they both have, the easy way their hands link together. This is not something that happens with just anyone.

It's enough to make her heart tremble a little and Elena has to make the conscious effort to not bite her lip as she realizes that she's balancing on the edge of a steep slope that's leading down to somewhere she's never gone before.

She feels the car slowing and looks up to see Damon pulling into the parking lot of one of the nicer restaurants of Mystic Falls.

It's Italian and she has only been there once, with her parents but she vaguely remembers an ambiance of intimacy and quiet chatter that comes from being an upper class establishment.

Damon pulls up at the valet stand and releases her hand, leaving her feeling bereft as he opens his door and strides around to open her door.

Elena finds herself smiling softly at him as he offers her his hand and she takes it – mostly because she knows if she doesn't, there's a chance she'll fall in her heels – her skirt swishes as she gets out and Damon's eyes dip down to her legs as he shuts her door and laces their fingers together again.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He flicks a glance at the boy waiting. "Keys are in the car."

The boy's eyes move to him as Elena realizes he's been watching her and Damon accepts the ticket he hands over without another word.

Quietly, they walk into the restaurant and Elena stops paying attention when Damon is greeted by the maître de. Instead, she watches him and appreciates all over again the angles of his face, the way his dark hair curls over his ears and the smooth tone of his voice as he speaks to the maître de.

It makes her stomach quiver as she realizes all over again just how attractive he really is and it makes her wonder what about her could have possibly caused him to ask her on this date.

It makes her wonder what it is about him that has her beginning to slip down the treacherous slope she knows is there.

"This way, sir."

She tunes in to hear the directive and she doesn't object when Damon leads her in the direction the maître de is walking.

It takes her a moment to realize that they're not going to be eating in the dining room with all the other patrons. Many are tucked into corner tables, their tables lit by a soft, muted light that, combined with the faint hints of a classical music piece, gives the restaurant a romantic, private feel.

Instead, the maître de leads them out through an open set of French doors that is letting the warm air of summer drift through the dining room, along with the faint floral smell from their gardens.

Elena only barely manages to muffle her gasp as they step out into the garden and she realizes that this is where they're going to be dining.

There are tables scattered through a blooming garden a myriad of colors. The tables are lit by fairy lights strung up over them and candles scattered around through the garden. It's a beautiful setting, one designed for romance and as she lowers herself into the proffered chair, Damon's hand warm in hers as he hands her into her seat.

She feels herself slip down the slope a little more as Damon's fingers linger in hers before he lets go and sits in his own chair. Elena's fingers curl into a fist to preserve the lingering heat his hands has left and she meets his eyes with a soft smile, as the maître de hovers.

"Thank you." Damon says as the maître de excuses himself; with the assurance someone will be out soon to take their order.

"Damon, this is beautiful." She breathes, meeting his inquiring gaze.

Elena feels a little blindsided, truthfully. This isn't what she expected when she'd been panicking about her date. If she is honest with herself, she wasn't sure what she had been expecting but this setting, the restaurant, was so far from her expectations she isn't sure where to start.

"I'm glad you like it." Damon pauses for a second. "You look beautiful, Elena."

Elena blushes. She feels the heat rise in her cheeks and spread downwards and Damon's lips pull up into a half-smile that makes her well aware that her blush is visible.

"Thank you. You don't look to bad yourself."

"I know." Damon quips and it surprises a laugh out of her. "You'd be surprised how many people have said that to me."

"No. I really wouldn't."

The words pop out of her mouth before she can stop them and her blush deepens as Damon's quiet chuckle floats over her.

"So. How as work? Anyone dump beer on you?"

Elena grabs the change of subject like a lifeline and shakes her head. "No. It was the usual lunch crowd. Though we had a screaming baby to contend with. It's amazing how the sound carries over the usual lunch noises."

"Babies are usually pretty loud. It happens. I lived next door to a family once. Paper thin walls meant that I knew exactly when one of them had snuck into the cookie jar before dinner." Damon says, amused and Elena's eyes brighten.

"Really? Where were you living?" She asks.

"New York. Crappy share apartment in a building that had a mix of everyone. Made life interesting if you were awake late at night." Damon leans forward on folded arms. "There was a couple who lived opposite me. They fought like cats and dogs when they weren't making up. Both could be heard clearly without even trying."

Elena laughs a little at that. "What's it like living in New York? Is that where you went when you left Mystic Falls?"

"It was the only place I could think of going to." Damon tilts his head slightly and concentrates on her face. "Living in New York is like living in a different world. There's so much to it and so much going on and it's a city that surprises you every time you turn a corner. You can't not love living in New York."

Elena feels a tug of jealousy in her mid-section that she hates. The city Damon is talking about is something she has never seen and something she has only ever dreamed about seeing. It highlights, completely, just how sheltered she is living in Mystic Falls.

"That sounds…amazing." Elena knows she sounds wistful and there's a flicker in Damon's eye that tells her he's noticed.

"Have you ever been anywhere?" He asks, carefully Elena thinks and she shakes her head.

"No. Not really. I went to Hawaii once with my parents but – "

Elena is interrupted when the waiter arrives with their menus and the offer of drinks and she can see by Damon's face that she's going to have to finish her sentence when the waiter leaves.

With a brief smile in thanks for the waiter, Elena finds herself gazing at a menu written in Italian with the English description beneath them and prices that make her wince every time she glances at them.

"Elena? Wine?" Damon asks and she glances up at him in surprise to see him watching her shrewdly.

"Oh, yes, please. Whatever you're having." She replies distractedly, her mind still on the prices listed in the menu and the sinking feeling that the reason she's only been here once before is because of them.

Elena barely hears Damon order the wine and when she glances up the waiter is gone and Damon is still watching her shrewdly, watching her as if he can read what is going through her mind and is finding it amusing.

"Have you seen anything you like?" He asks and Elena meets his eyes.

"Um. No. Are you sure – "

Damon cuts her off with a smirk. "Order what you want, Elena. Honestly, it's fine."

For a second, Elena considers ignoring what he's saying and then really looks at him. There is something about the way he's said that. It's said in a way that only comes from someone who is assured of their wealth and is comfortable with it.

It's because of that the next question that falls from her mouth before she can actually think about what she's saying.

"Where do you work?"

Damon pauses for a second, as if surprised that she's asked the question and Elena isn't sure why. It's not like it's a question from left field nor is it one few people ask. It's a natural question borne from both his reassurance and the fact that she really wants to know.

"Technically, I'm a corporate lawyer." Damon replies slowly, his eyes trained on her face as if to gauge her reaction.

Elena finds it difficult to mask her surprise. She isn't sure what she imagined Damon does; honestly, she just knows that of all the things he could have been, lawyer isn't one of them.

"Really?" He's still watching her carefully and Elena wonders why. "Where did you go to college?"

"Columbia."

This time, Elena doesn't both trying to mask her surprise and Damon smirks a little as it shows on her face.

Elena isn't sure what to think. Because the Damon Salvatore who had left Mystic Falls ten years ago had been expected to do everything but go to college with many assuming that the next they heard of the elder Salvatore, he would be on the evening news for doing something stupid the townspeople could sneer at.

Nobody would have expected Damon to attend one of the more prestigious university's in the country nor have the marks to attend law school, let alone graduate. If anybody in Mystic Falls had known, they wouldn't have believed it.

_She_ wouldn't have believed it; Elena realizes with a jolt and suddenly realizes why he's been watching her carefully.

He doesn't expect her to believe him.

That hurts a little, Elena discovers. That he's told her something he doesn't expect her to believe. Yet, maybe she can see why.

She lives in Mystic Falls, after all. It wouldn't be a stretch for him to imagine that she's not going to believe anything he says that could even hint towards him being more than the sum total of what the town believes him to be.

The thing is she does believe him. In fact, she thinks it's kind of amazing that he'd left Mystic Falls at eighteen and done the polar opposite of what everyone had expected him to do.

"Damon, that's amazing."

Elena discovers she wants to reach out and touch him to reassure him that she does believe him. It surprises her when she sees a flash of relief run through his eyes before he grins a little at her words. Like the fact that she hadn't questioned what he'd told her meant something to him, that her believing him meant something.

Elena discovers his grin is more fascinating than his smirk because it's more genuine and lights up his eyes in a way she thinks would be enough for a woman to drown in them, the way she is right now.

She feels the blush start along her cheekbones and start to spread as he holds her gaze and an intense silence settles over them.

It's exactly like the shared look in the storeroom except this time; it's a dizzying rush that is chased by heat that settles over her and this connection they've created with nothing more than a look is solidified when Damon reaches out to take her hand, twining their fingers together.

Elena feels herself start a slow, steady slide down the slope she knows has been there from the beginning and doesn't have the strength to make herself stop.

This should all be too much. The way her heart is tripping over itself as Damon holds her gaze with a steady one of his own, the fact that she's slipping down the slope is in her eyes for him to see, should all be too much because it's so damn reckless for her to do it.

She doesn't know why he's back any more than she knows what he's been doing for the last ten years or why he wants to get to know _her_, of all the people in Mystic Falls.

That's the question she really wants to know. She wants to know why he's sitting opposite her, holding her hand. Why he has told her something she doubts anyone else would have believed had he bothered to tell them. Why her believing him seems to have meant something.

She wants to know if his heart is tripping over itself the way hers is tripping over him.

"Why me?"

The question comes out as barely a whisper and Damon's fingers tighten around hers before he relaxes.

His gaze turns considering and Elena finds herself holding her breath as she waits for his answer. Before he can tell her, before he can even open his mouth to speak, the waiter returns with two wine glasses and a bottle of red and the moment starts to slip away as Damon squeezes her hand once before reluctantly sliding his hand from hers.

With an unsteady hand and a shaky smile of thanks, Elena accepts the glass of wine as she realizes that something has imperceptibly shifted between her and Damon.

It's elusive and scary and reckless but Elena knows it has everything to do with the way her heart has been tripping over him and the slow, steady slide down the slope into unknown territory. It's making her stomach turn and she has no doubt that where she to try and stand, her knees would give out on her.

Because she's shaky from the shift and she's not entirely sure where to go from here. Glancing up at Damon, Elena wonders if he knows which way to go from here and something about how steady he is, makes her wonder.

Because what she has felt isn't one sided and she knows it. She has little doubt that his steadiness is a reaction to the shift and for some reason, it makes her feel better.

"Would you like to order now?" The waiter asks and Elena sees Damon nod and she realizes that whatever has just happened, isn't going to be spoken about now.

The waiter takes their orders quickly and Elena isn't sure what she orders, though she hopes that it's nothing in red sauce because she thinks that there's a possibility that she'll spill it all over herself if she's not careful.

Damon waits for the waiter to leave and Elena thinks he looks tempted to clear his throat even as he picks up his wine and takes a sip.

"So, Elena, tell me where you want to go." Damon isn't asking a question and she decides to grab onto the subject with both hands.

"Europe. Everywhere in Europe." She tells him, wistfulness creeping into her voice as she tells him.

"Where, specifically. Start at the top of the list."

Elena pauses for a second, wondering if he actually wants to know and the she notices the sincerity in his voice and realizes he does want to know.

So she tells him.

Elena starts with Italy, telling him that she wants to go to Rome but Venice has captured her imagination more. She tells him she wants to sit in Saint Mark's square, by the Doge's palace and drink an espresso, to discover the glass factories in Venice and the soak up the old world feel of the city. She tells him that she can't wait to wander through the ruins of Rome and eat gelato by the Trevi Fountain, to go to the Vatican and stare up at the roof of the Sistine Chapel.

The more she talks, the warmer she gets and she's suddenly telling him about how to wants to get lost in London's history and lay on the grass by the Eiffel tower to watch the light show. She describes how she wants to walk through Berlin and discover the nuances of Prague. She tells him how badly she wants to admire the Scottish Highlands and see the majestic Summer Palace in Vienna, how she wants to gamble in Monaco and lie on a beach on one of the Greek Islands after conquering the climb to the Acropolis in Athens.

As she talks, describing every detail of the Europe she wants to experience, Elena realizes that Damon is listening to her. His eyes are trained on her face and every once in a while, he interrupts with a question that shows just how much he's been paying attention.

It's gratifying to tell someone who doesn't dismiss what she wants to do.

Elena knows that most people she tells don't really believe that she's going to Europe when she can save enough. They think that it's a pipe dream and ignore just how badly she wants to be there and experience all that Europe has to offer.

None have asked where she wants to go and _listened_ as she'd described it. No-one has ever really tried to encourage her to see beyond the life of Mystic Falls and the college course she's enrolled in. No-one has ever made her really believe that she could go.

Damon is doing all of that with only a few questions and the fact that he's _listening_ to her. His attention is focused solely on what she's telling him and his questions aren't about how she's going to get there or the impracticalities of going. He's asking her what else she wants to do when she's there. Where else she wants to go, what other experiences she wants to have while she's over there.

Damon seems to believe wholeheartedly that she's going to be there, experiencing everything she's describing to him and Elena feels her stomach do a funny little turn.

Their food arrives as she's describing it to him and they both thank their waiter distractedly as they begin to eat.

The food is almost a signal for the conversation to swing towards Damon and Elena barely notices the deliciousness of her food as Damon starts to tell her about his own experiences in Europe. He amuses her with stories of jumping into the Thames in winter, just to see how cold it actually is and how he got into a little too much trouble in Amsterdam.

He entertains her with stories of getting so lost in Paris it took him all night to get back to where he was staying and making new friends in Greece that led to him spending a week with the family in their home on Santorini and them trying to marry him off to their daughter, a running joke that has continued till today.

Damon seems to come alive as he speaks and Elena is fascinated by everything he's telling her because it somehow makes Europe more real to her.

There's a warm feeling in her stomach as he describes Venice to the best of his ability and Elena realizes that the warm feeling comes from the start of a bond. They're bonding over everything she wants to do and everything he's already done and it layers itself over the unspoken connection they share.

It somehow makes it more reckless because Elena realizes if she ever wanted to, she could have dismissed the slop she's sliding down, the recklessness of it all because it's too scary and too much and not something she can really understand.

But this bond, this shared connection they're forming is real. It's easy and understated and it's there because they are both genuinely interested in what the other has to say.

Damon's telling her about Rome and the gelato shop he'd found by the Spanish Steps when Elena's eyes fall onto his tattoo and she reaches out to trace it.

Damon stops talking almost the second her finger touches his skin and she concentrates on running the tip of her finger over the foreign words.

"Did you get this in Rome?" She asks quietly and he's suddenly watching her intently again.

"Maybe." He replies. "Why do you want to know?"

Elena lets a soft smile pull at her lips. "Because it's mysterious."

Damon's smirk flashes and before he can answer, the waiter is back. This time with a question about dessert and Elena shakes her head at Damon's questioning look.

"No, thanks. Just the check." His eyes fall on her. "I'd better get her home before people start looking for her."

Elena shakes her head a little at that and then realizes that they're the only ones left seated in the garden area. As the waiter disappears, she pulls out her phone and is surprised to discover that it's closing in on midnight.

"We've been here a while." She says when she looks up at him and Damon nods.

"Time flies when you're having fun."

Neither of them say much after that and Elena discovers she's okay with that as she realizes that she doesn't want the night to end.

She hasn't thought about anything but Damon since she'd slid into his car and he'd taken her hand. The entire night, she has been focused on Damon and on what she feels when she is with him and Elena realizes that it's been all consuming.

_He_ has been all consuming.

Biting her lip a little, Elena wonders at even as Damon holds out his hand to help her out of her chair and take her back to the car. Their fingers intertwine automatically and Elena follows him quietly out to his car.

The drive back to her house is silent and almost identical to the one at the beginning of the night and Elena discovers, just as comfortable.

It's almost like he's appreciating just _being_ with her and Elena thinks that even as she knows that why she is silent.

She likes sitting next to him, her hand in his, an easy, comfortable silence between them. She wonders how it's possible that she feels this for someone she still doesn't really know and then realizes that maybe this is part of it.

Maybe the easy silence is something that comes from this slope she's sliding down and that's what makes it treacherous.

Because maybe it's possible to being to fall for someone without knowing their past but knowing them right now.

It's a reckless thought and before she can think about it more, Damon is pulling up to the curb outside her house.

Damon lets go of her hand and is out of the car and around the hood to open her door before she can open her door. He opens it for her and offers her his hand, watching her closely as she unfolds herself from the seat and balances precariously on the heels she's worn for him.

For a moment, they're both frozen as she looks up and realizes how close they are. Elena discovers that even in heels, she has to tilt her head back and there's a sudden, nervous tremble in her stomach as her eyes fall from his to his lips.

In a brief, vivid thought, Elena thinks that kissing Damon Salvatore – _really _kissing him – could be the most reckless, treacherous thing she will ever do.

It makes her ache with sudden, white hot need to do it.

Slowly, her eyes travel back up to his and she can almost see the reflection of her need in his and feels her breath stop as he leans a little closer in a move that speaks tantalizingly of what they both want to do.

Until he pauses and Elena suddenly realizes that there are secrets in his eyes as well as that white hot need she feels down to her toes.

Before she can do anything to assuage the need building in her, Damon speaks.

"You asked me earlier, why you." He starts quietly. Elena nods, focusing on his eyes which have darkened. "You were eleven. I was nearly eighteen when I got into a fight with Mason Lockwood at a Founder's Party. It was my fault, apparently, even though he'd been the one screwing my girlfriend at the time. I was kicked out and sitting on the front lawn with a bruised jaw counting the days 'til I got the hell out of this town when you came out. You were wearing a blue dress you'd been pulling at all night and were carrying a bag of frozen beans. You didn't say anything; instead you gave me the beans for my jaw and sat down next to me. That's it. You sat next to me and waited until I was ready to leave."

Elena feels her knees start trembling as she remembers what he's talking about when Damon pauses. The memory is hazy at best but she remembers seeing him sitting on the lawn, a lonely figure with the world against him. It had made her sad at the time, knowing even then how unfairly he'd been treated. Now, it makes her heart ache as she remembers the lonely, solitary boy he had been sitting alone, staring up at the night sky.

She opens her mouth to speak when Damon speaks again, softly, as if he's musing and has only just realized what he's saying.

"It was the kindest thing anyone in this town has ever done for me." It's a shock to realize that he means it and Elena isn't sure what to say, even as her heart aches a little more. "Good night, Elena."

Elena's eyes slip shut as Damon leans in and she feels the pressure of his lips on her forehead. He lingers there as heat spreads through her, in a slow, steady pace and Elena feels her breath catch even as he pulls away.

Damon squeezes her hand once, his eyes trained on hers and then let's it go, rounding the hood of his car and sliding in. Elena continues standing on the curb, shaky because of what he's told her and the unbelievable feel of his lips on her skin and watches him leave.

Whatever has just happened tonight is not what she'd expected.

What has just happened has left her shaky and more aware than ever that this slope she's sliding down is more treacherous and reckless then anything she has ever encountered before.

It's everything she should stay away from and yet, as she watches his taillights disappear, Elena knows that she likes it.

_This slope is treacherous  
And I, I, I like it_

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A/N: Okay. I'm breaking policy. Mainly because I love this chapter. However, I swear an oath that I will be writing the next two chapters, quickly and there _will_ be an update next week. Anyway, I have to take a moment where I say this. I love the things that I write for Vampire Diaries, I do, but that last part of this chapter, where Damon is telling Elena 'why'? I really love that part. I don't know why. I can't explain it. But it really is one of my favourite things I've written. So, I'm hoping that you all love it too! And as always, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. If you feel like leaving a review, please do!


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